"I won't be giving it up to you, Headmaster."
Professor Flitwick discreetly touched his money pouch, and Dumbledore obviously noticed this as well.
"Well then..."
Seeing two old men whose combined age was two hundred trying to corrupt a student with money, Professor McGonagall cast a cool glance at both of them, her stern expression carrying a hint of warning.
"Headmaster, your recent sugar intake has been excessive. The dental potion budget has seriously exceeded limits."
"Severus has quite the opinion about this."
"Professor Flitwick, I heard your serialized manuscript for the Dueling Gazette is due the day after tomorrow."
"Editor Fudge has sent owls several times to remind you. You haven't written a single word, have you?"
"Cough... still polishing it..."
"About Severus..."
Upon hearing this, both old men immediately lowered their heads guiltily, using their noses to search for their dinner forks.
Meanwhile, below at the tables, not only Gryffindor but students from other houses cast burning gazes, even though Neville had already put the card away.
"A mutated Obscurus with its own thoughts and normal sense of right and wrong. How fascinating!"
"Penelope, could we perhaps..."
"No, no, no. Don't think about approaching an Obscurus. It's dangerous. I don't even dare look at it."
At her companion's urging, Penelope Clearwater shook her head fearfully, her expression extremely resistant.
"Let's observe a bit more..."
"Exactly..."
Ravenclaw students secretly studied Tiger, their eyes brimming with curiosity and thirst for knowledge.
"Simply unbelievable. Look at those teeth—longer than my wand."
"And didn't The Sorting Hat say..."
"You can't put it that way. It's like a wild beast. Perhaps in its eyes there's no good or evil, only instinct."
"In any case, don't approach it carelessly."
"Safety first."
"Cedric's right. Although Headmaster Dumbledore gave his guarantee, you can't tease a beast just because it's retracted its claws."
"That's foolish behavior. Don't forget our school motto."
Hufflepuff upperclassmen seriously warned their younger housemates.
Badgers were indeed quite resilient creatures.
But that didn't mean they were immortal.
Most importantly, Venom's bone-chilling fangs didn't look like those of a herbivore at all. They'd better keep their distance.
At The Gryffindor table, thanks to Neville's testimony, everyone's gazes toward Tiger were no longer so wary.
Instead, with The Weasley Twins joining in, they became somewhat envious of Tiger.
Only Hermione didn't notice the changes around her.
She pressed her lips tightly together, cutting her steak while glaring angrily at Tiger.
In fact, even she herself wasn't clearly aware of why she was so bloody angry.
It was just being sorted into different houses.
But couldn't Tiger at least cast a regretful glance her way? Instead, from beginning to end, Tiger hadn't looked in her direction once.
This made her feel their friendship was facing a tremendous challenge. She even felt that Tiger didn't seem to care about her as a friend. Hermione was genuinely hurt.
A harsh grinding sound arose. Lavender Brown, sitting beside her, weakly reminded:
"Hermione, you've cut your plate to pieces..."
⊙n⊙
The feast gradually approached its end.
Tiger sighed with deep satisfaction. At a time like this, a cigar would be bloody perfect.
Having finally escaped Mother Polly's watchful eye, couldn't he do whatever the hell he wanted?
Otherwise, what was the point of coming to this damned school?
Feeling something uncomfortable lodged between his teeth, Tiger looked around, as if searching for something.
Seeing only a bone remained from the German pork knuckle on the serving plate, he reached over and grabbed it directly. His thumb and forefinger worked like steel pincers, splitting the bone lengthwise.
Under the stunned gazes of surrounding Slytherins, Tiger tore it several times like splitting bamboo.
Then he picked out a bone splinter from the long fragments and brazenly began picking his teeth.
The pure-blood noble children sitting across from him stared at Tiger's greasy hands with utter disbelief, which was quickly replaced by disgust and revulsion.
"Merlin..."
"This is simply unforgivable..."
"He really should go to Azkaban!"
"Has a bloody troll entered Slytherin?"
"Damn Sorting Hat!"
The teeth-gnashing whispers were heart-wrenching. Tiger naturally noticed the gazes directed at him.
"My hands?"
He raised his greasy hands, eyebrows slightly arched, his puzzled expression carrying a hint of dark amusement.
However, faced with the troll's confusion, the Slytherins all avoided him like the plague, turning their gazes away.
Under Draco Malfoy's face that had turned green to black, Tiger picked up a wizard robe and casually wiped his hands.
However, this wizard robe wasn't Tiger's—it was his. Draco Malfoy looked as if he'd broken out in hives, trembling with barely contained rage.
"Shelby..."
"I must write to my father..."
The seemingly angry whisper, under Tiger's gentle smile, sounded more like powerless resistance and pathetic whimpering.
"If possible, please have your father write to my father as well. I'd be very grateful."
Tiger patted Draco Malfoy's shoulder, leaving a greasy stain, his smile gradually turning malicious.
This little git had been chattering at Hermione and Harry's group while they were queuing earlier.
Tiger didn't give a damn about children's squabbles—he simply loathed people who chattered incessantly.
"Merlin..."
Unable to watch anymore, Blaise Zabini secretly drew his wand and nodded slightly at Tiger.
After indicating he meant no harm, he cast Scourgify on Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy, who had been metaphorically drowning, finally began breathing heavily when he saw his robe become clean.
After glaring furiously at Tiger, he squeezed toward Crabbe beside him, trying to distance himself from this savage bully.
"Damn it, Crabbe, why are you so bloody fat!"
Just then, The Slytherin students encountered something more embarrassing than having a troll appear in their house.
Their originally proud and noble expressions instantly drooped like frost-bitten eggplants, showing complete awkwardness and helplessness.
Even Head GirlGemma Farley silently closed her eyes. She didn't want to see others, much less have others see her.
"Please stand up, children..."
"Use whatever tune you like."
As the food and scraps on the tables vanished, Dumbledore stood up and conducted the students in singing the school song, beaming like a hundred-year-old child.
"Hogwarts, Hogwarts..."
"Please teach us what we need to know..."
Tiger's expression looked like fine porcelain developing hairline cracks. He stood frozen in place, and the other Slytherin first-years looked much the same.
Musical notes from all directions seemed to lose their original trajectory, weaving together into a chaotic cacophony.
The singing contained both high-pitched screams and low moans, as if different voices were fighting fiercely for dominance. The Gryffindor students were particularly enthusiastic.
Slytherin students kept their heads down, quickly muttering the lyrics, desperately trying to end this public humiliation as quickly as possible.
However, The Weasley Twins' funeral march extended this torture session a bit longer.
"This is simply a bloody nightmare."
Tiger clutched his aching head.
The surrounding Slytherins looked up slightly, for once showing him genuinely approving glances.
"Music..."
Dumbledore seemed moved as he wiped his spectacles, gazing down at the young wizards below.
"Is more enchanting than anything else we do here."
"Well then, children, time for bed. Prefects, please lead everyone back to the dormitories!"
(?_?)
"The enchantment of music?"
"Bloody hell, I've been tolerating this old bastard for too long..."
Tiger darkened his face and cracked his neck, pulling out titanium knuckles to slip onto his hands as he walked alone out of the group.
He planned to quietly follow Dumbledore. Tonight, no matter what, he was going to give this old git a couple of proper punches...
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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